You Don't Always Get What You Want
by MadMax5066
Summary: Set between the beginning of season 2 and "Sleepers". Nebulous idea about the inbetween stage for an experiment, and the results thereof. One doesn't get intelligent vampires in just one go, after all..
1. Prologue

Pain.

People rarely felt that simply not being in pain was pleasure. Not being in pain, after all, was the state of one's normal existence. It was only when something went wrong... a headache or stubbing one's toe, for example... did they wish for that normality. They wished for the pain to go away, being consumed by it until it finally faded. For those who were in constant pain with only the stupor of sedation to look forward to, the memory of the days which were not spend in constant agony were dim indeed.

It did not have to be physical pain either which grabbed attention like a terrier, shaking a person around until they couldn't figure out which way was up. No... emotional, mental, or spiritual pain could hurt just as much, and in some cases worse. With physical pain, at least one could try to drug oneself with aspirin (or something stronger). They could take their medicine, sit back, and wait for the drug of choice to take effect. The other forms of pain only receded with certain remedies, some of which were easy to find but terrible in consequences... such as alcohol or drugs. Other remedies were hard to find, such as a sympathetic ear, day after day, talking through the same problem until even a soul-mate would tear his or her hair out in agony. Shared pain of this sort lessened it, and friends or family members who listened with sympathy should be treasured. But when a person was alone, either physically or socially? What refuge could they have then?

The more nebulous kind of pain could become such a part of one's life so that they never even notice it. The sort of pain which ate away a little piece of a person's soul being, every day... day after day after day... There were so many kinds of pain, each unique to the person hurting, and a thousand different remedies. It had been said once, and it will be said again: the absence of pain is pleasure, even if the person experiencing the blankness of neutrality does not realize it at the time. Some day, they will.

* * *

What was happening was so far beyond her, it nearly knocked her into a stupor. Strapped down, trapped, with... fuzzy recollections of something... perhaps it was... no... but maybe it... no... Who knew? All she knew is that her husband and her had gone on vacation, and ended up in a nightmare. Her head spinning, she tried to focus on James, her handsome (in her eyes at least, though he was a shade too fat with teeth too crooked to be considered attractive in today's society), wonderful husband, grimacing, writhing... something was happening to him. She could see it, but she couldn't hear him. That man... he was doing something, firing up some machine, doing some... experiment. It had to be that. It was so theatrical... patented mad scientist... it could be nothing else other than some crazed test.

Alison kept struggling, but the bonds held her tight. This whole last... however long it was... had been a long drugged stupor. The few times she had been conscious, she had felt fear but no pain, at least of the physical sort. Her fear had been razor sharp however, cutting her to the quick. Funny enough, but not in the ha-ha sort of way, all she could think about was that stupid movie she and James had watched, _The Human Centipede_, at her insistence. Oh, sure, laughs had been gotten at the poor production values, and the crazy German scientist trying to "train" his new monster (that and the joke 'you can never go ass to mouth' had been made more than a few times) had been fun. That'd been before... no, capitalize that. That had been Before, though. The irony she was living out a horror movie being a horror movie fanatic was not lost on her. If anything, it made her more desperate to get out. She _knew_ what was coming.

In the other room, she could see that man (jeezum crow, she was never going to forget his face, never _ever_) was finished with whatever he was doing, and seemed to be waiting for a result. She thrashed again, and he glanced her direction casually, and made a 'now you hush' gesture towards her. Loathing welled up within, and she screamed at him, at the glass. He laughed. She could see it, and then she screamed again as she saw her husband, her loving, wonderful husband turn into a monster, bristling fangs and claws... she screamed and screamed, horror taking hold of her and not letting go.

The man seemed rather pleased at this, but wasn't done, not that she was tracking it with any sort of sane mind at the time it was happening. He fiddled around and hemmed and hawed, going this way and that as James thrashed for a moment, then lay still. A device was brought out, and more wires and whatnot. Alison had finished her scream, and while she lay there, looking at James, she felt her eyes water. Not much more of this she could take, not much more at all. Sounds chuffed out of her as she was forced to breathe through her mouth, her nose being stuffed up and running slightly as she wept. The man... what was he doing... _what was he_... electricity arced, and a device was jammed into her husband's chest, seeming to pierce it. James thrashed now, and she could almost hear him howling in pain. _He's killing him_, she thought, and she yelled for him to stop, to leave James alone, heedless that a moment ago her beloved husband had been a monster. When the power was shut off, James lay there, still.

Alison howled again, struggling against her bonds. She had to see if he was ok. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. She kicked and fought with all she had, but to no avail. She lay there, stuck. The door opened, and when she looked up first at the window separating the two rooms she saw the lights had been dimmed. Her gaze swiveled next to the door and the man... he sauntered through. She was panting. She wanted to scream again, but she had nothing left; her throat felt red and raw.

"And now, my precious poppet," he said in a mellow voice. "Now, it's your turn."

She found she had enough for one more, after all.


	2. Chapter 1: Hospital

"Thank you for coming in, Dr. Magnus," the man in the white coat said. "It's an unusual case, and my colleague, Dr. Sheridan, referred me to you."

The brunette smiled, "You are more than welcome, doctor..."

"Montague, head of neuroscience," he replied, offering his hand out for a handshake.

She shook his hand in a professional manner, "This is my associate Dr. Zimmerman." Helen gestured beside her to Will, who then shook the doctor's hand. "And now that introductions are complete, would you tell me about the patient?"

"Certainly," Dr. Montague replied. "If you will follow me?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and began walking down the corridor. Will and Magnus followed, falling in step behind him easily. "A Jane Doe was brought in two months ago with facial lacerations, and a perforation in the right eye. It appeared to be a wild animal attack. She had no forms of identification, and her fingerprints are not in the police database.

"The patient was in a comatose state," he continued. "We theorized it was because of the facial, ah, trauma. To confirm this, and to check for internal bleeding, we order a battery of tests, including an MRI and an EEG-"

"An EEG?" Will interrupted. "If the patient is in a coma, then-"

"It wouldn't do much good," the doctor agreed. "We tried it after we could come up with no physical reason she would be in a comatose state. Turns out... she wasn't. At least, we don't think so."

"You don't think so?" Magnus asked, frowning slightly in confusion.

"Here is the first set of findings," Dr. Montague replied, handing Helen a sheaf of papers. "Successive tests have shown no change, so we moved to a fMRI, and this-" and here he handed over another few sheets of paper, "-is what we found."

"This is an extremely high level of activity," Helen said after a few moments of reviewing the charts and images. "And here, it seems concentrated in the hippocampus and the frontal lobe...memories?" She handed them to Will. He took them, gave them a cursory look, then handed them back to the doctor.

The doctor bobbed his head. "We believe so. Whatever is happening here, it appears she is reliving it. Or reliving _something_... perhaps she suffers from post traumatic stress, and thus is catatonic, or there is damage, and we are not finding it."

"This is all unusual, yes, but why did you call us?" Helen asked. "We specialize in the..."

"Strange," the doctor replied. "So my colleague said. Here's some food for thought," he said, as he stopped at the door. "As far as we can tell, whether conscious or unconscious, the scans remain nearly identical... virtually the same."

* * *

The woman in question was sitting on a chair, looking out the window. Her brown hair lay lank and unkempt, and she kept her hands folded in her lap, which was covered only by the hospital gown. When she turned, jumping at the sound of the door opening, they could see the damage wrought on her face. Raw straight scars, still in the process of healing, started at near her hairline and went almost straight down, canting only a little bit to her left. There were four altogether, though the rightmost one was the shortest. Whatever had done this had sliced her skin relatively neatly, crossing her eyesocket and bisecting the lids. Part of her nose was sliced off on the side, and her lips were split in twain on the right. The eyesocket was the real horror, sunken in indicating the loss of her eye, and the remaining lids nothing but a mass of scars. Will sucked in his breath upon seeing it, and even Magnus paused for a moment. "This is Jane," Dr. Montague said, and then frowned slightly at the patient. "Jane, I told you... you need to keep the bandages on. The protect your skin from airborne-"

"-from airborne microorganisms," she repeated dully, relaxing and turning back towards the window. "I remember, doctor."

Helen turned to Dr. Montague, "Could you leave us?" Reluctantly, he nodded his head, and indicated he would be right outside. Once he left, Magnus shared a look with Will. There was no doubt in her mind those were claws, perhaps of an animal, but more likely an encounter with an abnormal. The signs were there, after all: four trails of scars, all of differing lengths, which indicated a hand tipped with claws. She approached the woman cautiously. "Hello, Jane." Will approached on the other side, but kept his distance for the moment. He studied her while Magnus talked.

"Hello," the woman said, her voice faint. The rest of her was emaciated. Will could see the bones straining under the skin, as if trying to break free, and yet... and yet... her mannerisms were not quite right to him. She was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder-those signs were clear as a bell-but her body language was off, somehow.

"My name is Helen Magnus, and I am here to try and help you," Magnus went on to say, taking a chair and moving it closer so that she could sit near the patient.

The woman made a choked sound, turning towards Magnus. "Give me a gun then," she said, her voice quiet, but with a lilting sarcastic note. "Give me a gun, so I can eat a bullet."

"It's not that bad," Magnus said, her voice empathetic. "If you tell us what happened to you, we can help."

Will stirred. "It's what we do," he added, making his voice reassuring. When the woman shifted to look at him-which made him stir once more; that one-eyed glare was a bit disconcerting-he realized what was so off about her movements.

"That's nice," she said, not bothering to be nice about the sarcasm this time around. "If I tell you, you'll want to commit me, just like they do. And I...I..." she trailed off, her gaze going hazy as she looked out the window again.

"There was a monster," Magnus said. "Something attacked you, and it wasn't human... or animal."

Those words seemed to cut through the fog Jane was in, and she turned to Magnus. "How... how did you know that?"

"As Will said," Helen replied, "it's what we do. Tell me about it, and perhaps we can find some way to help you."

"I..." the woman licked her lips, and looked from Magnus to Will, then back again. "My husband and I. We were... attacked. It's..." She winced, and touched the right side of her face, her fingers barely touching the rough scars. "I don't like to think about it, but I can't help it. It's... very... _difficult_... to stay focused on the present. When I talk. About it. The past."

Magnus touched the woman's knee, very gently. "Whatever we can do to help, we can."

Jane started at her touch, but took a deep breath and attempted to force herself to relax. Magnus could feel her trembling, and began to withdraw her hand, but Jane shook her head. "No, no... maybe with something to hold on to, or something to remind me it's just a memory..." A slight pleading note crept into her voice, "Please just keep it there. For a moment. I'll try to begin again." Helen nodded, sharing a quick look with Will, and then back to the woman.

"My husband and I were on vacation," she said, her sentences clipped and fast. "We had won a trip. We were attacked. I think we were drugged. I woke up. He didn't. I was in a lab. I think." At the end of each sentence, one could almost hear the 'stop', as if she were reading off a telegram. Her right hand drifted down, and grabbed ahold of Magnus'. Although she kept shaking and trembling, more so as the clipped story went on, she seemed to draw some comfort from the shared touch. "There was a man doing science stuff to him. He killed him. Then he came and did some... ah, god, some things to me. I don't remember exactly. I was passed out. I woke up. I tried to escape." The woman's shaking grew as the story progressed, until one of her feet was bouncing up and down, causing her whole leg to shake. "I hit him. I made him mad. He clawed me back. I passed out. I... I... ah..."

The shaking fit eased, and she loosened her grip on Magnus' hand. "I woke up here," she said, looking down at the floor, and sneaking a look to Magnus.

"Can you give us any more details?" Helen asked, prodding Jane gently.

Jane shook her head in a hurry. "No. No. If I dwell too much, then I fall down the rabbithole." She began to laugh, but it turned into a sob, and Helen put her arm around the woman's thin shoulders, trying to give her comfort. "I-I mean. I cuh-cuh-can't think about it tu-too h-hard...it cuh-cuh-consumes me... I l-luh-live it over and..." She broke down completely then, covering her face with her hands.

* * *

Outside in the hallway, Will and Helen regrouped. "She's definitely under stress," Will said. "The classic signs are there... the jumpiness, the increased sense of awareness, the not thinking about it too hard. It must mean she's reliving it, whatever 'it' is."

"It sounds as if someone experimented upon her and her husband," Magnus replied. "Will, her metabolism-"

"Is completely off," Will finished for her, nodding in agreement. "She's not used to moving around with so little weight, and there were folds of skin. She used to be much bigger."

"She was giving off an enormous amount of heat, burning away her fuel. Why would someone increase her metabolism?"

"Trying to make regenerative abilities?" Will asked. "Finding a way to beat the Atkin's diet? Who knows?" He pursed his lips for a moment, not wanting to ask the question, but... "Do you think it could be Cabal?"

Helen paused for a moment, then shook her head. "No. It sounds as though this man was the abnormal who attacked her. Other than footsoldiers, they didn't use abnormals. No, I think this is something else entirely." She tapped the side of her jaw for a moment with a fingertip, "I don't think the increased metabolism was the intent at all. I think it was a side effect."

"A side effect? From...?"

Magnus shifted, "The fMRI scans showed her brain being in constant usage connected to memory, for the most part. She said her memories consume her if she thinks about them too hard... would they have been trying to increase her intelligence?"

Will frowned, "Intelligence? How?"

"Think about it, Will," Helen said, warming to her theory. "Logic and reasoning are dealt with in the frontal lobes, true, but memory controls what we learn... language and speech, books, facts, dates, and so on. If you wanted to make a person smarter, you could either increase their reasoning and logic abilities like James, or you could increase their memory to give them near perfect recollection. She may have an eidetic memory."

He considered the prospect for the moment. "To the best of my recollection, there was only one case of a person with a true eidetic memory; the rest of them used either memory tricks, or were proven to be frauds, but I remember the test. A woman... what they did to test her was show her two pieces of paper, each with a random pattern of dots on it. She only glanced at the papers, but afterwards, she was able to draw both of them correctly on the same piece of paper... as a combined image, a stereoscopic one." He shrugged, "No one has ever been able to duplicate it, and she refused after that first test. Since the researcher ended up marrying his subject, people were positive it was a fraud."

Helen nodded, "We can run her through a battery of tests... but the main purpose here is her safety. Either through luck or purpose, she has stayed a Jane Doe, most likely in fear this man would find her, assuming he knows her real name. We should move her to the Sanctuary, a place of safety, and from there, we can more readily assess what has happened, as well as find her family."

Will nodded his agreement. "If you think that's best."

"I do," she replied, "if she agrees. The poor girl... she's terrified." Magnus sighed and shook her head slightly. "Perhaps in another environment-one in which she feels safe-she may be able to recall more details without losing herself in them as she seemed to fear."


	3. Chapter 2: Sanctuary

"...you're going to take me to a place, away from the hospital and the suicide watch, where I'll be safe?" Alison said for the third time, disbelief obvious in her voice. This seemed sheer craziness to her; the hospital would never allow her out while she expressed the urge to kill herself. Never. It was against all protocol of which she had ever heard.

Dr. Magnus nodded once more, patience etched in her beautiful, if older, features. "At the Sanctuary, we will have the resources to identify what attacked you... and try to help you accomodote to your new... ability." The doctor's voice was calm and soothing, and gave the impression of the doctor always being in control. Self-assurance poured from the woman in waves. That and empathy. That quality had been sorely lacking at the hospital, or so Alison thought. They just didn't understand her panic at first, and they couldn't understand what she was going through. _Even in dreams,_ she thought. _Even in dreams, I can't help it_. Although she could help Bobbi. Her friend looked at her with wide eyes, the childish face drawn with solemn fear, almost comically so.

"I dunno," Alison said. "I mean, yeah, you can sleep over, but I mean, you know..." She looked down the stairs to where Bobbi's parents were in the living room, "Running away.. that's a pretty big deal, you know? I mean..."

"I can't stand it anymore," Bobbi exclaimed, casting her eyes towards the stairs as well. "And if I say I'm staying over at your place, and then I can pack a bag of stuff, and take it with me, and... you know, then I can get a head start." It seemed to Alison that a weird sparkle glinted in Bobbi's eyes, but she had no idea what it was just that it was sparkling and so pretty. She reached down to get it in the stream, and it turned out to be a jagged quartz crystal. "Oh, Mel, look at this," she said, standing up to display her prize.

Mel stood up, his brown fedora canted back on his head to give him a lazy look. He was anything but; his determination to get the best rock sample from the area made Alison positive she was going to get an A on the presentation they had agreed to share. He walked over, and took the stone from her. "Wow, nice specimen... hey, look at that staining," he said, holding the quartz up, so the sun could shine through it, illuminating a streak of blue on one side.

"I know. Such a pretty blue. It reminds me of lapis lazuli," she agreed.

"I think it's azurite," he replied. "Let's have a look around and see where it came from... it's not worn down; something must have broken it off and carried it downstream."

"Sounds like, a plan, Stan-"

"Jane?" Something touched her leg, and she jumped, blinking rapidly. _God dammit, it happened again,_ she swore, and redoubled her efforts to stay focused. Sometimes, it was just the littlest things which set her off. Other times, she could go hours without lapsing into a fugue.

"I'm here," Alison replied, looking down at her hands. They looked freakish to her... nothing but skin stretched over bone and cartilage. The extra skin made it look like she had webbed fingers to her, almost. "I'm paying attention."

"Please, look at me," Dr. Magnus said, her voice firm. Alison did so, meeting the other woman's gaze for a moment, then down to her mouth instead to watch the words form on her lips. "You are in need of help which they cannot give you here. I can. Let me help you."

Conflicting emotions wrestled within her._ I want to die_, she thought. At the same time, her first impulse was to say 'yes, help me, please'. She closed her eye for a moment, feeling tears well. Alison hated to cry now. In days gone by, it had been lethargic, yet comforting, to have a good cry and lay there in her bed, spent of all energy or emotion. _He'll never love me,_ she thought to herself. _Why do I love him so much?_

The teenager kicked her feet at the wall, trying to see if she could work up a good cry once more, but she was completely spent, and sat there numb in her chair, forcing her way out of the memory. "I..." she licked her lips, feeling the ever so odd sensation of her socket welling up with tears and rolling inside the socket before they spilled outward from the wreckage. Her good eye was still just watering up. After another few moments, tears spilled from that eye as well. It made for some uneven crying. "I must be going crazy," she said, words falling out of her mouth unbidden. "I can't stop remembering things. Anything... _everything_... and when I think about that, it's... I'm_ there_ again. I can't stand it. I just can't... _stand_ it. I hear him screaming. I'm screaming, I'm ... I'm..."

"Stay with me, Jane," the doctor said, squeezing Alison's arm firmly.

Alison wiped her tears away, and snorted loudly, trying to prevent her nose from running as well. "Thank you," she said. "But I don't know how you can help."

The man, Dr. Zimmerman (Will, he insisted on being called) said, not unkindly, "It's what we do. It'll be alright. We can help you." He seemed on the verge of saying more, but lapsed back into silence. She was grateful for that, so tired of the platitudes foisted on her every day by the hospital staff. Dr. Montague had assured her of their credentials, as doctors at least. He had seemed a little mystified as well by them, but accepted them in good faith. Alison wasn't so trusting, but she wanted to be. Before, she had took people at face value, just like she took _him_ at face value, but that had... well, had led her here. She dug her fingertips into her leg, squeezing hard to keep herself in the present.

A decision had to be made. Trust these strangers or stay in the hospital and go mad? Assuming they could do what they said they could do... "I... I don't... know."

Dr. Magnus seemed disappointed by the decision, her face falling slightly in a minute frown. "I understand," she said, her voice soft but with that firmness, reminding Alison of a strict, but kind schoolteacher. She took out a business card and left it upon the table as she stood. "Here is our card. If you change your mind, you will know how to contact us." The two of them exchanged a look over Alison's head as she reached for the card. A simple font, large, saying 'Sanctuary' leaped out at her. Slightly below that were the words 'For All'. _Is there?_ she wondered. "Is this a safe haven?"

"Oh yes," Helen Magnus said, her British accent staining the words. "Yes, it is."

"Alright," Alison said. "Before I change my mind again, yes."

* * *

She rode in the back of the car, gripping the seats with anxiety. For once, she had no problems staying in the present; her heightened sense of awareness and self-preservation kept all systems on full alert, just in case this turned out to be some sort of cosmic joke and she was delivered into the hands of her tormentor... or yet another psycho. Dr. Magnus, who preferred to be called either Helen or Magnus, had gotten her some clothing, for which Alison felt thankful. It was good to be dressed in regular clothing again rather hospital gowns and robes. Her original clothing, the ones she had been found in, were hopelessly big for her. Well... the shirt she could have worn, and the jeans with a tight belt, but even her feet were a different size. _How much fat is on your feet?_ Or were they bigger? Now that she thought on it...

There was no getting around that her body had changed. She could _feel_ it change, gnawing at her from the inside out, but mostly all she felt was weak. She could stand and walk for small distances, but she had had to be wheeled out in a wheelchair. It was a humiliation she didn't care for repeating, but she'd have to once she got to this Sanctuary. Losing weight this rapidly was very unhealthy, and no matter what she ate at the hospital, she couldn't seem to put anything back on. Every person wanted to lose weight, and lose it all _now_, but Alison longed for her body back again, the way it should be.

"Ah, we're here," Will said, turning around to look in the back. "You'll like it. I promise. It's... I'll never forget my first time coming here."

"I bet," Alison muttered, but a moment later, Will was forgotten. The house was _huge_... it must have sprawled over acres of land. The Sanctuary was a gothic castle come to life, right in the middle (or edge, rather) of urban U.S.A. Surreal, it stood, spires and minarets-it had honest-to-god minarets!-pointing to the sky at the various corners of the various buildings. Alison was no architect, but she could tell the core house had been added to over the years, making the estate itself some sort of wondrous maze, a testament to different architects over the years. The ground had been kept immaculately; it was a place she would love to walk, to sit down underneath a tree, and read a book. If it were some crazy evil scientist lab, it was disguised very fucking well. "I bet," she said again, more sincerely this time. Every which way she craned her head, there was something interesting to see. "This is _amazing_."

Magnus smiled to herself in the front, and Will nodded. "You never forget your first time." The good doctor drove the car in, and off to the side to a large garage. The doors opened automatically, and Alison was struck dumb for a second time. The first time had been in wonder, the second in confusion. _What in the world have I gotten myself into?_

The garage was very large, like what you'd see on _Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous_, except instead of supercars, all sleek shiny things ready to drive, there were a variety of vehicles, dominated by a couple of big vans and a motorhome. Other cars were parked there, perhaps three that she saw, and a motorcyle... and she was positive there were more as she could not see the back. This was decidedly not normal. Were they a rich family? Some sort of government funded private hospital? If they were, where were the logos, or other staff? The grounds had been neat, but there had been no grounds keeper in sight. "What is this place?"

"It's a little hard to explain," Dr. Zimmerman said. "I'll get you settled in, and give you the nickel tour." Magnus turned her head towards him, and a look passed between the two, borne of long familiarity. A message passed between them, that much Alison could tell, but not of what it might mean. "I said the nickel tour," he said. "Not the dime."

"Make it short, if you can, Will," Helen replied, parking the car. She brushed a bit of her brown hair back and out of the way. "I'll need to run some tests, so if you can end the tour at the lab, I would greatly appreciate it."

Alison froze up at the word lab. _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about home, oh, god, oh please oh please let me make it home..._ She wrestled in the bed, half in a stupor. Even the drugs she was under couldn't swallow all the panic, though the rest of the world was hazy, like a dream. She couldn't see, and she couldn't move, though she tried haphazardly, when she remembered to. Most of the time, she lay there in the bed provided, half in and half out of consciousness. Something was happening, something with the lab, and the men, and the doctor... Her body alternated hot and cold, and inside, she was changing.

She opened her eyes to the darkness, looking at what must have been the blank wall. She could almost squint her eyes and pretend it was her bedroom wall she was looking at, or the hotel's wall. Asleep in her bed and safe. Instead, a door opened, and he stood there. "Come on now, time to get up," he said, voice perpetually chipper. Without waiting for a reply, he strode in and checked the IV line. Alison had ripped it out once before-she remembered the stinging pain of it dimly. Once he saw it was secure, he began to check her vitals, like any doctor.

"I want to... go home," she whispered.

At that, he stopped and looked at her, his eyes unreadable in the light from the doorway. "Don't you worry," he said, that voice grating on her nerves, "after I'm done, you won't remember a thing."


	4. Chapter 3: Waiting

"Jane?" Will asked as he took off his seat belt and turned around in the seat. Their passenger had gone quiet and still. When he turned about he saw why: she had passed out. "Magnus," he said, alerting her as he got out of the car. The woman didn't appear to be having an attack or an aneurysm, but it was impossible to tell from where he sat.

Helen glanced behind her at the alert, and wasted no time in turning the car off, taking off her own belt, and exiting, only to open the back door behind the driver's seat to check "Jane Doe's" vitals. "Her pulse is fast, erratic," Helen said after a moment of checking Jane's pulse. She peeled open Jane's remaining eye and checked it for pupil dilation-nothing. "She's not responsive... this is most unusual."

Will stood behind her, "What? Isn't she dreaming? Remembering?"

"She's got the rapid eye movement of deep sleep, but this manhandling... the light, it should have wakened her," Helen stood up, and gestured to Will. "Help me. Once we can run some tests, we can better find how to help her."

Will squeezed in beside her, and both of them hefted the unresponsive (though possibly not unconscious) Jane between them, sharing the weight of the load. "It's a wonder she can tell memories from the real world," he said. "If all of her scans have been the same, it means it's all... like a dream."

"Or all real," Magnus said. "Before, when she seemed to be caught in a memory, she either snapped out of it on her own or by our stimuli. Why not this time?"

They moved to the elevator, the limp woman between them. Will gave a half a shrug, "I don't know. I'm not even sure why her memories are getting triggered." He paused for a moment, "If we knew what she was seeing or remembering, then we could at least have an idea of what was causing the flashbacks, but-"

"The lab," Helen interjected, as they entered the elevator. Will pressed the button to go to the medical level. "I mentioned the lab." She sounded rueful, as if caught in a rookie mistake.

Will nodded, rolling his eyes upward for a moment behind his glasses, "Whatever happened. It's either too strong or too fresh for her to just snap out of it. Talk about your PTSD from hell."

"Let's just get her situated and we will figure out how to proceed from there," Magnus replied.

"Ah, Doc? You're back, right?" Henry's voice came over the intercom. "We have a minor situation..."

"What is it, Henry?" she asked, as the doors rolled open on the medical level. The two carried the woman to their medbay, lifting her and setting her on a hospital bed.

"It's nothing big, just a mix up with a delivery?" he made it into a question. "I've the details here if you've got the time."

Magnus glanced to Will, "Would you? I'll see about getting her comfortable and the tests started."

"Not a problem," Will replied. He looked the unconscious woman over for a moment, then back to his boss. "She's going to need a special diet, I've a feeling. It can't just be an increased metabolism that would ... transform a person like that. There's something else."

"Noted," Helen said, getting the clean needles and vials she required to take a blood sample. "I had surmised as much as well."

He smiled, knowing that not much slipped past Doctor Magnus, especially when she was interested in a case... and all cases with abnormals interested her. He retreated back to the elevator, and headed downstairs to where Henry probably was. This particular case reminded him of the Cabal... and what they had done to Ashley. Were they still around, running their experiments? If so, how on Earth did this woman escape with no apparent combat skills and weak from her injury? Was there another group they needed to worry about, one that experimented on humans instead of abnormals? He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. Stepping out of the elevator, Will concentrated on the problem at hand knowing that in a few hours, they'd have a few more answers to the one he just left.

* * *

Helen rubbed her eyes, then looked at the results again, hoping it would change. It didn't. She pushed herself back and sat on the stool, frowning at the equipment. _Nothing in this world is ever easy_, she reflected. _No loose ends are ever really tied._ Jane's condition made some sense to her now, but the answers raised more questions, as they invariably did. _Just once, I would like for things to be easy._

Out of habit, she checked her patient's vital signs once more. They varied with whatever response the girl was having in her mind, but right now, they seemed to be stabilized. A higher level of adrenalin than normal (which didn't seem out of place, considering the circumstances), and a higher 'rest' rate for her heartbeat than one would guess she'd have... but that was it. Perhaps she was remembering sleeping, or perhaps dreaming for real. There was no way to know, unless she asked Sally or another of the psychic abnormals here to peek inside. Helen felt reluctant to do so; the girl's mind was her own, and if she did not come around in a few hours, then perhaps. Her body was in no immediate danger of being damaged permanently, though if they did not act quickly, it would be. Then again, it might not. It _might_ be all intentional... the memory, the eye loss, the body changes...

The problem had been laid out before her in elegant simplicity, but the solution was not nearly as easily found. There were a few things she could do, however, in preparation... and on those tasks, she had best get to work.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Will entering the lab. "Problem's all taken care of," Will said with a slight yawn. "The Peruvian beetles were supposed to be arriving next week and someone got mixed up." He leaned on the lab table, "The only crisis about it was finding food, and where to put them. Well, and...you're not even listening, are you?"

"Thank you, Will," Helen said absently. She searched around the lab, knowing what it was she was looking for, but it had been so long since...

He straightened at once, sensitive to her moods. "What's wrong?"

"We might have a bit of a problem," she said, finding her prize. "There is no doubt in my mind her story is true. Her genetic pattern has been altered."

"Altered? In what way?" he asked. Helen could tell he was thinking of the Cabal, but... no. They were gone. They _had_ to be gone; she told herself that daily. John and... John had spent months eradicating them, hunting them in the hollows of secret labs, bringing blood and death so that what had happened to Ashley could never happen again.

Will was waiting for a reply. Helen took a small breath. "Vampire," she replied, not one for knocking around the bush. At his startled movement, Helen interrupted him before he could reply, "But not like Ashley. Not at all like that."

"Who? What?" Will's face hardened; he had paid a dear cost as well, though no one else truly understood the loss she felt to this day. "How?" In response to his questions, she merely gave him a look, and understanding dawned. "Tesla," he said, thunking his fist down on the table. "How could he after what happened? It's only been months!"

"As if waiting longer would make it more acceptable," she replied dryly. "No... it's not the same. He used his own blood instead of Source Blood as the Cabal did, and... I'm not entirely certain what he did."

"The mind thing makes a lot more sense now," Will said, moving around to stand next to Magnus, and examine the results of the tests. "From what you said, last time he made vampires, they were mindless. Zombies."

Magnus nodded, "Under his control, but mindless, yes. He must have been trying to solve that problem." She busied herself with beginning the mix of a certain medicine she knew so well, one that she had developed. It might not be necessary, but she preferred to be prepared for any potential problems.

"You know what I don't get? Why her? Why her and her husband?" Will said, looking at the unconscious patient. "There are other people smarter, stronger. Weren't those guys he turned before all muscle?"

"Yes, excellent for... footsoldiers," Magnus said, slowly. She looked at Will, "I had assumed it was random, but Nikola never does anything randomly. He wouldn't leave this to chance."

* * *

Waking, it was impossible to tell if it were real or a memory. Most of the time, however, she could count on being in bed and opening her eyes to being the real world. Not_ all_ of the time, but most of the time. She ached, but that was normal for her anymore... another reason to count this as reality. It was like her muscles, her body, were moving even when she wasn't, like they were trying to act out the scene she had been remembering.

Alison looked up at the dull grey ceiling and shivered a little. It was a medical facility of some sort-that much was evident-but almost in a bunker. The room itself seemed fairly open, with large glass windows for observation, and medical equipment scattered about. It was not the same set of rooms she had been remembering, and so she relaxed. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, trying to enjoy the simple pleasure of being in bed and not having to do anything. Her socket ached. It always did after _those_ memories.

"You're awake!" a male, unfamiliar voice exclaimed. Alison turned to look at the door, which was on her right side...her blind side. A man with dark hair and stubble, wearing a tshirt and jeans stood there with a tray of what seemed to be equipment. She shrank back from the unfamiliar man, and he flashed a nervous grin, showing too many teeth for it to be comforting. "No, no, don't, ah, be scared... I work with Magnus, er, Doctor Magnus, I'm Henry." He paused, setting the tray down and extended a hand, like one would a wild animal trying to calm it. "I'll just call the doc-"

"No," she blurted, then repeated, "no... don't. I just ..." She scratched her elbow, looking at the IV in the back of her hand. "I just want some time to myself. The doctor..."

"...has a way of looking at you and wondering how you tick," Henry finished, nodding his head. He smiled again, once more with too many teeth, and squinted one eye as he did so, "Yeah... she does that."

Alison bobbed her head in agreement, shifting in her bed. The stranger made her nervous, but at the very least he seemed as uncomfortable as she did. Not exactly the picture of a diabolical scientist. "Thanks, uh, Henry," she said and looked pointedly at the door. _Go, get out_, she willed him.

He glanced over, following her look, then back to her, and back to the door, "Oh! You want me to leave? Uh, yeah, sure. Just, ah...here, press this button," he approached and picked up the bed controls, indicating what must have been like a 'call nurse' button in a regular hospital, "if you need anything. I'm sure the doc will be in, uh, sometime." He paused, pointing outside, "I'll be out there. She, well, she doesn't want you wandering around unsupervised."

"So, you're my guard?" she asked, gripping the blanket which covered her legs.

"Guard? No, no!" he exclaimed. He smiled again, with less teeth, and gave a little half shrug which pulled his smile to the side. "I'm just a tech. I'm going to be outside playing some _Fallout_. If you need anything... button."

She nodded to him, not finding it in herself to smile back. He sensed it after a few moments, and bowed his head, ducking out the door to leave her alone. Alison settled back in the pillows, on her side so she could watch the door. Outside the windows, she could see a desk set up, and sure enough, the tech settled himself behind the desk, facing away from the window, and seemed to ignore her completely. Well, perhaps he glanced her direction once or twice, but for the most part, he ignored her. That was all to the good. Alison didn't feel the need to run here. There was no threat. All the same, she couldn't rest easily either. The memories would be crawling back inside sooner rather than later, but from previous experience, after a prolonged encounter like that, they would take a break, giving her some rest. A day, perhaps. Maybe less.

Alison lay there, watching Henry not watch her. Instead of contemplating her latest bout, she set about studying the lines of the outside room, of how he had his computer set up, the chair he was sitting in. On the inside, she looked at the computer screens here, with the screensaver of little butterflies, fluttering about on the monitor, of the clipboards and pens, how they lay in precise arrangement, ready to be picked up again. The floor was scrupulously clean; the walls were blank grey slates. Inside and outside of this room screamed of a different personality to her, not the maniac who had done whatever he had done. She didn't want to think about that. She traced the lines of the inside and outside of the room with her eye, over and over again, waiting for the doctor to come and give her some answers.


	5. Chapter 4: Results

The woman's - Jane's - stare was unsettling, because she just kept looking out the window, hardly ever blinking. Henry just concentrated on his game, glancing up every now and again to check the cameras. The Big Guy had things taken care of down in the Pit; he was on feeding duty this afternoon. It would be Henry's turn tonight. Magnus kept a very small staff for such a large facility, and there was always work to be done. Thankfully, today it was only babysitting.

He didn't mind letting her have some time to herself. It gave him the opportunity to lean back and play some games he'd been meaning to for a while. Maybe he should work on his comic... after the encounter with Walter, ha-ha, no _The ADJUSTER_, Henry's motivation to write had come back. He'd scribbled furiously for days afterwards, until work pulled him away and he forgot about it. It was what... a few weeks ago now? Maybe he should pick that up again.

The elevator to his right opened, and he looked over. Will and Magnus were coming out, chatting amongst themselves. Henry stood up, "Hey, doc."

Helen Magnus smiled at him, and he still felt proud that he was part of her team. Hell, she'd practically raised him, why shouldn't he feel proud? She was like the mom he never had, and he'd do anything for her. "Henry, how is our guest?"

"Up, but not walking around," he replied. "She looks tired."

"She would be," Magnus replied. "The room's ready? I don't want to keep her down here. Too gloomy."

He bobbed his head. "Yeah, the Big Guy took care of that yesterday."

"Excellent," she said. She pursed her lips for a moment, and Henry waited. _She looks upset,_ he thought._ No... annoyed_. It was the same look she gave him when he'd promise to get a task done, and then forgot to do it. "Will you wait here, Henry?"

"Sure," he replied, shutting down his game. Will and Magnus headed into the medbay, leaving Henry alone. He watched them for a moment, sitting down to talk to Jane inside, and Henry frowned. The doc was definitely upset about something. That, or she feared Jane would take whatever news it was badly. He shook his head, feeling relieved he was not the one in charge, to have to deliver bad news and make all the big decisions like that.

* * *

"Jane," Dr. Magnus said, "I have some news on your... condition."

Alison winced slightly, but sat up in bed. It had been awfully nice of them to leave her clothed instead of changing her into a hospital gown as the medical professionals had done. They probably expected her to snap out of her fugue at any moment though. _I'm dying_, she thought to herself. _The only reason why a doctor would have that sort of expression on their face... I'm dying. It's a brain tumor. Brain cancer._ Her father had died of a stroke which had been caused by a tumor, and cancer was hereditary, so... it only stood to reason. She licked her lips, braving herself for what would come next. "Go ahead."

Dr. Zimmerman, next to Magnus, quirked his lips. "You're not dying," he said, grim amusement plain.

"Am I that easy to read?" she asked, relaxing ever so slightly. There was still that look to Dr. Magnus' face to contend with, but if it wasn't that dire... she could probably handle it. Reliving some of the worst moments of her life recently in vivid technicolor had steeled and numbed her somewhat, all at the same time.

"I've had some experience reading people," he said, with that faint smile. It even touched his eyes behind his glasses, briefly, causing her to relax even more. "I'm a psychiatrist. I used to work with the police."

"Oh, as a profiler?" Alison guessed. There was only one job a psychiatrist would do... _oh, wait._ "Or interviewing people, to see if they were fit for trial?" That was interesting. She wanted to keep up this interesting blather rather than hear the Serious News. Stealing a glance at Dr. Magnus, she didn't think the good doctor wanted to go much into it either.

Will smiled. "As a profiler, yes. But I am trained as a psychiatrist... so, I'll be here to help you get back on your feet." He pursed his lips for a moment, and seemed about to say more, but then sat back in his chair slightly, handing the platform off to his companion.

"Jane," Dr. Helen Magnus said again, her British accent giving the false name an air of sophistication by proxy, "you've been changed." She paused here, perhaps waiting to see Alison's reaction. Alison didn't react, that she could feel anyway. She knew she'd been changed. She could feel it... all she did was nod in response. "This... man...he combined your genetic structure with another's, trying to augment you. It's had some side effects..."

"Augment me how," Alison interrupted. "He was messing with... I mean, there were needles, sure, and I was strapped down for part of it, and..." she began to trail off, remembering the feel of being constrained, and then of being sluggish and it was so hard to focus. The light was blurry. It didn't illuminate anything at all. She felt hot... feverish. Something was wrong, seriously wrong. She never got sick... _never_. And yet, here she was, sweltering under the dim light as if it were the sun bearing down on her. Her whole body ached. She felt as if she were back in high school again, trying to get through a hangover.

Fingers snapped before her eye and she jerked to alertness. "Oh, crap," she said, realizing what had happened immediately. "Oh... fucking hell." She looked down at her hands, and willed herself not to start crying. "It's that. It's that _thing_," she whispered. "It never does that after... I don't _do_ that after thinking about... _that_."

Will touched her knee gently, "It's alright. We'll help you with that. I promise. We'll fix this." He gave Magnus a look, and she nodded in agreement.

"I don't think we can reverse what was done, but we can help you adjust, so it doesn't rule your life," the doctor said.

"Doesn't rule my life... I don't _have_ a life right now," she said, feeling weary and more than a bit irritated. "He did this to me? _Why?_ So I would go crazy? Because I'm about bouncing out of my skull here... or bouncing around IN it."

"What triggers the memories?" Will asked, just a slight hint of clinical detachment creeping in. He was interested in the problem. At least it wasn't disbelief, like at the hospital.

"Anything," Alison said, her hands twisting the fabric of the blanket absently. "_Everything_. Things that... I don't know, remind me of something. It's like... you know, you remember a song that you were dancing to in your fifth grade prom or whatever? You hear that, and you remember the dance. It's like that, except all the time...and all so real." She gritted her teeth. "Anything could set it off... it's all... it's all... _relative_. Related."

"Before I get to the second part," Helen said as Will sat back, chewing Alison's statements over, "I would like you to try something." Alison looked at her blankly while the doctor took out two sheets of paper, showing her first one, then the other. There were just a few dots on them, maybe twenty on each sheet, all in random places.

"Is this a Rorschach test?" she asked, skepticism and doubt creeping into her voice. "What do you want?"

The doctor put the sheets of paper away and gave her a blank sheet and a Sharpie. "Just... draw those dots for me. Combine both of those pages into one. Can you do that?"

Alison took a breath, prepared to spit out a sarcastic reply, then held her tongue at the last second, right before the words left her lips. _They're testing me_, she thought. _They believe me, and they're testing me. _She looked at the sheet. _I can do this._ She narrowed her focus to just a few seconds ago, trying to think back to just those sheets, and _only_ those sheets, and where were the dots...

Concentrating fiercely on just those two sheets, and just the dots on them, she traced over the dots she saw in her mind's eye with the Sharpie, and JUST those dots, that was all. Putting first one sheet, then the other down. She bit her lip, biting it so hard she nearly drew blood, but it was worth it in the end. When she handed the sheet back to the doctor, and they compared them, she actually saw Will's face show a bit of awe. "That's incredible!" he said. "There's only been one case... and it's never been duplicated before."

Helen was nodding in agreement. "You are a true eidetic. God, it makes sense, the cheeky bastard!" Alison blinked, confused at the change in tone, and Dr. Magnus gave her a wry look. "Nothing, I apologize." The woman stopped talking there, obviously chewing over what to say next. Alison waited. There wasn't anything else she could do, other than look between them and wondering how they were going to 'help' her. The worst part about all of this, the very worst, was a part she had barely touched on: her husband. She missed him terribly, but to think about him... to think he was dead. No. She couldn't bear it. Not right now. There was too much else to worry over to indulge in grief. "Because of your changes, you may have some special dietary needs," Dr. Magnus finally said. "There's some medicine you can take, and it should set you arights again."

"Dietary needs? What dietary needs?" she asked, willing herself firmly to stay in the present.

"There's no need to worry," Dr. Magnus said. "Your digestive system is missing a few enzymes now which help digest food. There's a medication which will help you produce the enzymes you need to break down food, and to stop other cravings."

"Whoa," Alison said, sitting up a little straighter and holding up a hand. "Back up, back up... you're saying I can't absorb, uh... nutrients? Food? And what cravings?" She paused, looking at Magnus, who met her eyes for a moment, then looked away. In that moment, a realization hit her. "You've seen this before. What? What have I got? What was done to me?" The rising edge of hysteria made her voice rise in both volume and pitch.

"Calm down," Will said, leaning forward. "It's alright, just calm down."

Almost at the same time, "It's nothing. An old friend of mine lives with a similar condition; it doesn't inhibit him at all."

"Jesus fuck!" Alison exclaimed. "Just stop dancing around it; _what the fuck happened to me?_"

That was the wrong thing to say. The good doctor leaned back in her chair, giving her the Disapproving Look, and Will winced, standing up. "I think you need some time to calm down," he said. "This is a lot to swallow."

"No, Will, she deserves to know," Magnus said, the disapproving look still on her features - most likely for the swearing - but it was mixed with a very piercing gaze. A knowing one. "Vampire DNA. He mixed your DNA with a vampire's."

Alison could only look at her, her mind emptying of all thought. She opened her mouth, but had no idea what to say to the statement. It was sheer craziness. Literally struck dumb by what Magnus had said, Alison sat there, silent. "I know it's a lot to absorb," Will said, and she shifted her one-eyed gaze to him.

"No," she said. "No. There's a very simple explanation. I have gone completely insane." She blinked her eye rapidly, feeling the tears well up. As she had done before, she was able to prevent the crying in her good eye by blinking numerous times, but her mangled one spilled tears regardless of her wishes. "I think I need to be alone for a little while."

"We have a room prepared for you," Helen Magnus began to say.

"No, I just want to be alone!" Alison said, turning it into a shriek at the end, unintentionally. She held up both her hands in the air, parallel to her head as if she was going to clap them over her ears. "I just need to be alone. Please." _Go away, just go away. I don't want to think anymore. I don't want to hear any of this!_

They stood up and gave each other a look. When Magnus started to talk again, Alison repeated herself, emphasizing it, "_Please_." With that last plea, they both left the room slowly, as if afraid to let her be alone. It was just like the doctors in the hospital, when they first put her on suicide watch. She squeezed her eye shut so she wouldn't have to see them. When she heard the door close, she turned on her side, facing away from the window. _Crap oh crap,_ she thought, over and over again. _What am I going to do?_

* * *

Henry sat there, looking at the window. He waited for the patient to stir. 'Take her to her room, when she wants to go,' the doc had said. 'Give her her medicine and some room. She's taking it all very badly.' That seemed to be an understatement; he heard her shrieking at Will and the doc from outside, and he had stood there outside, wondering what, if anything, he should do. When they had walked out, Magnus said to wait for her to come out or speak on her own. And so he did.

With the grim mood of Jane, he didn't feel much like playing any games, so he worked on a couple projects he'd had on the wayside for a while. He tinkered with a EM weapon. He reorganized his desk. He half-napped. Dull, dull, dull babysitting duty. Plus, it was someone who seemed, well... unstable. Of course, he understood the gist of what had happened from overhearing them in the room. It wasn't soundproof, and Jane's voice, at least, had been raised. On the outside, Helen and Will had talked as well. The rest he could guess at. Tesla... he hated that guy. Nothing but a pain in their collective asses.

A buzzing sound startled him, and he jerked fully alert, looking this way and that around him. It was the call button; she had pressed it from inside. Henry stood up and headed to the door, poking his head inside. "You rang?"

Her back was to him, and she turned around at his voice. "Good, I hoped it'd be you," she said. "The doctor said something about a room?"

Henry bobbed his head in a nod, "Yeah... it's upstairs, but ah, first, there's some pills... and are you hungry?"

She nodded, struggling to sit up. "Yeah..." she said, blushing a little in embarrassment. "That's why I rang the bell actually. My stomach's killing me."

"Hold that thought; I'll be right back," he said. He popped back outside once more and grabbed the bottle of pills the doc had given him. He started back, then stopped, and rummaged around his desk, coming up with a package of beef jerky. When he entered the medbay fully, he held up the jerky, "Best I can do on short notice, but at least it'll be something until we can hit the kitchen."

Sitting up now, she reached for it, "Ah, god, thanks...are those... is that my... uhm... 'medicine'?" The skepticism in her voice was all too apparent, and her scent gave off both waves of fear and wariness. Henry gave her the jerky as he opened the bottle, and shook a couple pills out. He handed them to her, and she looked at the little red things as if they were going to bite her. "Water, please?"

"Coming up," he said, fetching a paper cup and filling it from the water cooler. He handed that over to her and watched as she took them.

"How often do I need to take them?" she asked.

"The doc said once a day. If there's any other instructions, she didn't leave 'em with me," he replied. She nodded and started to tear open the jerky package, with some difficulty. He watched her, wincing a little. "Do you want some help with that?" When she shook her head, he shrugged it off, bouncing a little on his feet. This was completely not his forte, not his area of expertise. _Will should be down here giving the pills and the tour._ He sighed.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking at him. "I know you don't want to be here, but you don't have to make it seem... _torturous_."

"Huh? What? No...it's just that, I'm not really a people person, you know? Ah, the doc and Will take care of this for the most part, the introductions, tour around the Sanctuary, and so on," he said by way of explanation. Talking was good. It was better than the stilted silence.

"Dude, those two..." She stopped messing around with the package, shaking her head. "Those two... they mean well. I can see that. But it's all fruit loops."

"It's not crazy," he said, defensively.

"No, it is," Jane insisted. "Seriously, it's like some weird ... vampire? I mean, _really_, vampire? What am I going to do now? Start sparkling in the sunlight?" She openly scoffed, and went back to worrying the package of jerky with her teeth, finally getting a tear in it to peel the thing open. "Ah, good..." she murmured as she ate the first piece.

"It's not _Twilight_," Henry said. "And all those vampire tales are just myths."

"So they're real?" she asked, around a mouthful of meat. When he nodded, she shook her head. "And they're alive. Like, with ... DNA and living tissue and all that."

Henry paused for a moment, "You know, I'm not quite sure on that one. No...they're alive. At least..." Jane sat there, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but he wasn't quite sure on how to finish it, or how much to say exactly. "Look, there's one we know and he's a complete douche. He made these others or something, by killing them... I'm not really sure on all the details, only what the doc told me, which wasn't much."

She took a deep breath and chewed on another piece of jerky. "But I'm not dead, so I must just be... _infected_, or something. Something like that." He could tell she was struggling with the idea overall. Her brows stayed knitted together as she frowned. Even her chewing seemed to be with deliberate thought, counting out each one inbetween thoughts of what being a vampire meant. "What about werewolves?"

At that, he smiled slightly, "I call them hyper accelerated proteans... but yeah, real."

"No shit," she said, shaking her head. "Frankenstein's monster?"

"Don't know," he said, then paused. "Probably true."

"Mummies?"

"False," he answered. "Well, you know, in the museum, but walking around? No."

"Faeries?" she asked as she worked another piece of jerky out of the package.

"Depends on what you call faeries...but yeah, real." He looked at her, focusing in on her good eye. It seemed clear... she was cognizant. Troubled, yes. Skeptical? Without a doubt. Disbelieving... who wouldn't be? But she seemed sane to him. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "You want... you know, to go see?"

She blinked. "Here? You have faeries here?"

"Yeah, and a lot of other stuff too," he said, then smiled, trying to set her a little at ease. With her face like that, and her husband... she'd had a tough row to hoe lately. "If you want, that is."

"Hell yes," she replied, setting aside the jerky to lever herself out of the bed. "I want proof."


End file.
